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INTRODUCTION  ST  HUGH  BLACK 


The  Comrade  in  White 


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THE  COMRADE   IN   WHITE 

"  Lo,  I  am  with  you  alway" 

After  the  paintino  by  O.  aiUvard  SwtnsleaA.  H.  L 


The  Comrade  in  White 


BT  THB  BB7. 

W.  H.  LEATHEM,  M.A. 
INTRODUCTION  by  HUGH  BIAGE 


"  I  shall  not  fear  the  battle 
If  Thou  art  by  my  side.'.! 


Nbw  Yokk  Chicago  Toxomto 

Fleming  H.  Rcvell  Company 

LOMOON      AMD      EolllVVItQH 


Copyright,  19x6,  hy 
FLEMING  H.  R£V£LL  COMPANY 


New  York:  158  Fifth  Avenu* 
Chicago:  17  North  Wabash  Ave. 
Toronto:  25  Richmond  Street,  W. 
London:  21  Paternoster  Square 
Edinburgh:    100    Princes    Street 


ca 


INTRODUCTION 

rpHE  Great  War  has  put  a  strain 
**•  on  the  resources  of  human 
nature,  as  well  as  on  material  re- 
sources. Men  who  have  come  through 
the  hell  of  the  trenches  have  dis- 
covered some  of  the  secrets  of  life  and 
death.  Many  of  them  have  known  a 
reinforcement  of  spiritual  power.  It 
^  is  quite  natural  that  this  fact  should 
^  often  be  described  in  emotional  form 
as  direct  interposition  of  angels  and 
other  supernatural  agencies.  Among 
these  the  most  beautiful  and  tender 
stories  are  those  of  "The  Comrade  in 
White."  In  essence  they  are  all  tes- 
timony to  the  perennial  fount  of 
strength  and  comfort  of  religion — the 
human  need  which  in  all  generations 
1 


345477 


INTRODUCTION 

has  looked  up  and  found  God  a  pres- 
ent help  in  times  of  trouble. 

The  origin  of  the  many  stories 
brought  back  to  England  from  the 
battle  fronts  by  her  soldiers  is  that  to 
the  average  Briton  this  a  religious 
crusade,  and  men  have  gone  with  an 
exaltation  of  soul,  willing  to  make  the 
ultimate  sacrifice,  willing  to  die  that 
the  world  might  live.  Men  and  wo- 
men are  face  to  face  with  eternal 
realities,  and  are  driven  by  the  needs 
of  their  hearts  to  the  eternal  refuge. 
Unless  we  see  this  we  miss  the  most 
potent  fact  in  the  whole  situation. 

The  tender  stories  in  this  little 
volimae  are  a  reflex  of  the  great  re- 
ligious stirring  of  the  nation.  They 
describe  in  a  gracious  and  pathetic 
way  the  various  abysmal  needs  of  this 
tragic  time,  and  they  indicate  how 
many  human  souls  are  finding  com- 
fort and  healing  and  strength.  Thej^ 


INTRODUCTION 

are  jSnding  peace  as  of  old,  through 
the  assurance  that  "earth  has  no  sor- 
rows, that  heaven  cannot  heal." 
Hugh  Black. 

Nkw  Yobk. 


"THE  WHITE  COMRADE' 


When    soldiers    of   the   Cross    waged    Holy 

War, 
With  courage  high,  and  hearts  that  did  not 

quail 
Before  the  foe,  in  olden  times  they  saw 
The  blessed  vision  of  the  Holy  Grail. 
Tho'  Christ  was  gone.  His  pledge  was  with 

them  yet. 
For,  borne  on  wings  of  angels,  from  the  skies. 
They  saw  the  chalice  that  once  held  the  wine 
As  emblem  of  the  Saviour's  sacrifice 
For  men,  and  knew  that  still  the  Master  met, 
With  His  own  friends,  in  fellowship  divine. 

II 

Christ  has  His  soldiers  now.     Though  years 

have  rolled 
Away,  the  warriors  of  the  Cross  are  strong 
To  fight  His  battles,  as  the  saints  of  old. 
Against  oppression,  tyranny,  and  wrong. 


THE  WHITE  COMRADE 

And  still  amid  the  conflict,  they  can  trace 
The  Saviour's  influence.  Not  the  Holy  Grail 
Which  once  as  His  remembrance  was  adored, 
But  Christ  Himself  is  with  them.  For  a  veil 
Is  lifted  from  their  eyes,  and,  face  to  face 
They  meet  the  presence  of  the  risen  Lord. 

Ill 

O  blessed  vision !    After  all  the  years, 
Thou'rt  with  us  yet.    To-day,  as  heretofore, 
Men  see  Thee  still  and  they  cast  off  their 

fears, 
And  take  fresh  courage  to  press  on  once  more. 
The    soldiers,    bearing    from    the    desperate 

fight 
A  wounded  brother,  see  Thee,  in  the  way. 
And   know   Thee    for   the    Saviour,   Healer, 

Friend, 
For  once  again.  Thy  loved  ones  hear  Thee 

say 
(O  Christ !  White  Comrade,  in  their  stand  for 

right !) 
"Lo,  I  am  with  you  alway,  to  the  end." 

Fidei  Defensor. 


CONTENTS 

I.  In  the  Trenches    ....  11 

II.  The  Messenger 23 

III.  Maimed  or  Perfected?  .    .  33 

rv.  The  Prayer  Circle    ...  45 

11 


I 

IN  THE  TRENCHES 


"And  iBimediately  He  talked  with  them,  and 
saith  unto  them,  "Be  of  good  cheer;   it  is  I;   be 
not  afraid." 
»— The  Gospel  According  to  Mark,  chap,  vi :  50. 

"  And  His  raiment  was  white  as  snow." 
— The  Gospel  According  to  Matthew, 
chap,  xvii :  2. 

"  The  Battle  of  Mons,  which  saved  the  British 
Army  from  annihilation,  was,  for  the  most  of  those 
who  fought  with  the  angels,  a  sepulchre.  They 
saved  the  British  Army,  but  they  saved  it  at 
fearful  cost.  No  *  great  host '  withdrew  from  that 
field  of  destruction;  the  great  host  strewed  the 
ground  with  their  bodies.  Only  a  remnant  of 
those  who  stood  in  the  actual  furnace  of  Mons 
escaped  with  their  lives  .  .  .  Let  those  who 
mourn,  take  encouragement  from  these  stories 
of  visions  on  the  battlefield,  quietly  and  with  a 
child's  confidence,  cultivate  within  themselves  a 
waiting,  receptive  and  desiring  spirit.  Let  them 
empty  themselves  of  prejudice  and  self.  .  .  .  Let 
them  detach  themselves  more  and  more  from  the 
obsessions  of  worldly  life.  Serenity  is  the  path 
by  which  the  thoughts  of  God  travel  to  us;  and 
Faith  is  the  invitation  which  brings  them  to  tha 
table  of  our  souls." 

— On  the  Side  of  the  Angels.     \ 


IN  THE  TRENCHES 

STRANGE  tales  reached  us  in  th« 
trenches.  Rumours  raced  up 
and  down  that  three-hundred-mile 
line  from  Switzerland  to  the  sea.  We 
knew  neither  the  source  of  them  nor 
the  truth  of  them.  They  came 
quickly,  and  they  went  quickly.  Yet 
somehow  I  remember  the  very  hour 
when  George  Casey  turned  to  me 
with  a  queer  look  in  his  blue  eyes, 
and  asked  if  I  had  seen  the  Friend 
of  the  Wounded. 

And  then  he  told  me  all  he  knew. 

After  many  a  hot  engagement  a  man 
H 


THE  COMRADE  IN  jWHITE 

in  white  had  been  seen  bending  over 
the  wounded.  Snipers  sniped  at 
him.  Shells  fell  all  around.  Nothing 
had  power  to  touch  him.  He  was 
either  heroic  beyond  all  heroes,  or  he 
was  something  greater  still.  This 
mysterious  one,  whom  the  French 
called  The  Comrade  in  White j  seemed 
to  be  everywhere  at  once.  At  Nancy, 
in  the  Argonne,  at  Soissons  and 
Ypres,  everywhere  men  were  talking 
of  him  with  hushed  voices. 

But  some  laughed  and  said  the 
trenches  were  telling  on  men's  nerves. 
I,  who  was  often  reckless  enough  in 
my  talk,  exclaimed  that  for  me  see- 
ing was  believing,  and  that  I  didn't 
expect  any  help  but  an  enemy's 
knife  if  I  was  found  lying  out  there 
wounded. 

19. 


IN  THE  TRENCHES 

It  was  the  next  day  that  things 

got  lively  on  this  bit  of  the  front. 

Our  big  guns  roared  from  sunrise 

to  sunset,  and  began  again  in  the 

morning.     At  noon  we  got  word  to 

take    the   trenches   in    front   of   us. 

They  were  two  hundred  yards  away, 

and  we  weren't  well  started  till  we 

knew  that  the  big  guns  had  failed  in 

their  work  of  preparation.    It  needed 

a  stout  heart  to  go  on,  but  not  a 

man   wavered.      We   had    advanced 

one  hundred  and  fifty  yards  when  we 

found  it  was  no  good.    Our  Captain 

called  to  us  to  take  cover,  and  just 

then  I  was  shot  through  both  legs. 

By  God's  mercy  I  fell  into  a  hole  of 

some  sort.    I  suppose  I  fainted,  for 

when  I  opened  my  eyes  I  was  all 

alone.    The  pain  was  horrible,  but  I 
13 


THE  COMRADE  IN  WHITE 

didn't  dare  to  move  lest  the  enemy 
should  see  me,  for  they  were  only 
fifty  yards  away,  and  I  did  not  ex- 
pect mercy.  I  was  glad  when  the  twi- 
light came.  There  were  men  in  my 
own  company  who  would  run  any  risk 
in  the  darkness  if  they  thought  a  com- 
rade was  still  alive. 

The  night  fell,  and  soon  I  heard 
a  step,  not  stealthy,  as  I  expected, 
but  quiet  and  firm,  as  if  neither  dark- 
ness nor  death  could  check  those  un- 
troubled fe^t.  So  little  did  I  guess 
what  was  coming  that,  even  when  I 
saw  the  gleam  of  white  in  the  dark- 
ness, I  thought  it  was  a  peasant  in 
a  white  smock,  or  perhaps  a  woman 
deranged.  Suddenly,  with  a  Httle 
shiver  of  joy  or  of  fear,  I  don't  know 
which,   I  guessed  that  it  was   The 


IN  THE  TRENCHES 

Comrade  in  White.  And  at  that 
very  moment  the  enemy's  rifles  began 
to  shoot.  The  bullets  could  scarcely 
miss  such  a  target,  for  he  flung  out 
his  arms  as  though  in  entreaty,  and 
then  drew  them  back  till  he  stood  like 
one  of  those  wayside  crosses  that  we 
saw  so  often  as  we  marched  through 
France.  And  he  spoke.  The  words 
sounded  familiar,  but  all  I  remember 
was  the  beginning.  "If  thou  hadst 
known,"  and  the  ending,  "but  now 
they  are  hid  from  thine  eyes."  And 
then  he  stooped  and  gathered  me 
into  his  arms — ^me,  the  biggest  man  in 
the  regiment — and  carried  me  as  if 
I  had  been  a  child. 

I  must  have  fainted  again,  for  I 
woke  to  consciousness  in  a  little  cave 

by  a  stream,  and  The  Comrade  in 
15 


THE  COMRADE  IN  WHITE 

White  was  washing  my  wounds  and 
binding  them  up.  It  seems  foolish 
to  say  it,  for  I  was  in  terrible  pain, 
but  I  was  happier  at  that  moment 
than  ever  •!  remember  to  have  beeii 
in  all  my  life  before.  I  can't  explain 
it,  but  it  seemed  as  if  all  my  days  I 
had  been  waiting  for  this  without 
knowing  it.  As  long  as  that  hand 
touched  me  and  those  eyes  pitied  me, 
I  did  not  seem  to  care  any  more 
about  sickness  or  health,  about  life 
or  death.  And  while  he  swiftly  re- 
moved every  trace  of  Wood  and  mire 
I  felt  as  if  my  whole  nature  were 
being  washed,  as  if  all  the  grime  and 
soil  of  sin  were  going,  and  as  if  I 
were  once  more  a  little  child. 

I  suppose  1  slept,  for  when  I  awoke 

this  feeling  was  gone.    I  was  a  man, 
16 


IN  THE  TRENCHES 

and  I  wanted  to  know  what  I  could 

do  for  my  friend  to  help  him  or  to 

serve  him.    He  was  looking  towards 

the    stream,    and    his    hands    were 

clasped  in  prayer;  and  then  I  saw 

that  he  too  had  been  wounded.     I 

could  see,  as  it  were,  a  shot-wound 

in  his  hand,  and  as  he  prayed  a  drop 

of  blood   gathered   and   fell  to  the 

ground.     I  cried  out.     I  could  not 

help  it,  for  that  wound  of  his  seemed 

to  me  a  more  awful  thing  than  any 

that  bitter  war  had  shown  me.    "You 

are   wounded   too,"    I   said   faintly. 

Perhaps  he  heard  me,  perhaps  it  was 

the  look  on  my  face,  but  he  answered 

gently,  "This  is  an  old  wound,  but  it 

has  troubled  me  of  late."    And  then 

I  noticed  sorrowfully  Jhat  the  same 

cruel  mark  was  on  his  feet.    You  will 
17 


THE  COMRADE  IN  WHITE 

wonder  that  I  did  not  know  sooner. 
I  wonder  myself.  But  it  was  only 
when  I  saw  His  feet  that  I  knew 
Him. 

"The  Living  Christ"— I  had  heard 
the  Chaplain  speak  of  Him  a  few 
weeks  before,  but  now  I  knew  that 
He  had  come  to  me — to  me  who  had 
put  Him  out  of  my  life  in  the  hot 
fever  of  my  youth.  I  was  longing  to 
speak  and  to  thank  Him,  but  no 
words  came.  And  then  He  rose 
swiftly  and  said,  "Lie  here  to-day  by 
the  water.  I  will  come  for  you  to- 
morrow. I  have  work  for  you  to  do, 
and  you  will  do  it  for  me." 

In  a  moment  He  was  gone.   And 

while  I  wait  for  Him  I  write  this 

down  that  I  may  not  lose  the  memory 

of  it.     I  feel  weak  and  lonely  and 

18 


IN  THE  TRENCHES 

my  pain  increases,  but  I  have  His 
promise.  I  know  that  He  will  come 
for  me  to-morrow. 


19 


II 

THE  MESSENGER 


"  And  as  they  thus  spake,  Jesus  himself  stood 
in  the  midst  of  them,  and  saith  unto  them.  Peace 
be  unto  you." 
— ^The  Gospel  According  to  Luke,  chap,  xxiv  :  36. 

"  The  War  has  powerfully  changed  the  '  psycho- 
logical atmosphere,'  and  the  thoughts  of  a  great 
multitude  are  turned  towards  the  spiritual  aspect 
of  existence.  In  this  vast  but  connected  universe 
we  are  not  the  only  self-conscious  beings.  Life 
is  working  here  as  elsewhere,  for  some  sublime 
purpose.  The  day  is  at  hand  when  we  shall 
\Min  from  the  child-like  amusements  and  excite- 
ments of  physical  science  to  the  unimaginable 
adventures  of  super-physical  discovery;  and  in 
that  day  we  shall  not  only  flash  our  messages 
to  the  stars,  but  hold  communion  with  our  dead." 

— Harold  Begbie. 


II 

THE  MESSENGER 

THE  Parish  Church  stood  high 
perched  in  the  Glen,  and 
through  its  clear  windows  we  could 
see  the  white,  winding  road  that  was 
our  one  link  with  the  great  world  he- 
yond  the  mountains.  Perhaps  our 
eyes  strayed  from  the  preacher's  face 
more  than  was  seemly,  and  in  spring 
^me  we  had  this  excuse,  that  the  fresh 
green  of  the  larches  against  the  dark 
Focks  made  a  picture  fairer  to  the 
eye  than  our  plain  old  Church  and  its 
high  pulpit. 

But  that  Sunday  in  the  spring  of 

23 


THE  COMRADE  IN  WHITE 

the  Great  War  the  minister  had  us 
all,  even  the  young  and  thoughtless, 
in  the  hollow  of  his  hand.  It  was 
the  18th  chapter  of  Second  Samuel 
that  he  had  read  earlier  in  the  Ser- 
vice, and  now  he  was  opening  its 
meaning  to  us  with  deep-felt  real- 
isation of  those  great  dramatic  epi- 
sodes. 

We  saw  the  young  man  Absalom 
die.  We  saw  Cushi  start  to  bear  his 
tidings  to  the  king.  We  watched 
Ahimaaz  swift  on  his  track.  We 
marked  the  king's  anxious  waiting, 
and  the  fixed  gaze  of  the  watchman 
on  the  city  walls.  We  strained  in 
the  long  strain  of  the  runners.  We 
fainted  with  the  fears  of  a  father's 
heart.    We  saw  Ahimaaz  outrun  his 

rival  yet  falter  in  his  message.    And 
^4 


THE  MESSENGER 

we  heard  the  blow  upon  David's 
heart  of  Cushi's  stroke.  "And  the 
king  said  unto  Cushi,  Is  the  young 
man  Absalom  safe?  And  Cushi 
answered,  The  enemies  of  my  lord 
the  king,  and  all  that  rise  against 
thee  to  do  thee  hurt,  be  as  that  young 
man  is." 

There  were  tears  in  the  women's 
eyes  as  the  preacher  called  us  to  see 
the  stricken  and  weeping  king  climb- 
ing with  weary  step  to  the  chamber 
over  the  gate.  And  in  a  solemn 
hush  we  heard  the  cry  of  his  anguish 
" — O  my  son  Absalom!  my  son,  my 
son  Absalom!  would  God  I  had  died 
for  thee.  O  Absalom,  my  son,  my 
son!" 

We  had  anxious  fathers  and 
mothers  and  wives  and  sisters  in  the 


THE  COMRADE  IN  WHITE 

Church  that  day,  and  it  was  as 
though  our  own  sorrows  were  all 
gathered  up  Into  the  old,  unhappy, 
far-off  things  of  which  the  preacher 
spoke.  I  had  a  dear  one  to  be  con- 
cerned for,  but  I  was  thinking  now 
of  some  one  else.  For  Widow 
M'Donald  was  there,  and  the  days 
had  grown  into  weeks  since  last  she 
had  tidings  of  John — and  he  was  her 
only  boy. 

Suddenly  she  rose  and  slipped  out. 
I  followed  her,  for  there  was  an  odd, 
silent  friendship  between  us,  and  I 
thought  that  I  might  help.  To  my 
surprise  she  did  not  turn  homewards, 
but  down  the  Glen,  and  there  I  saw 
that  some  one  was  waiting  for  her  by 
the  pine  wood.     "I  saw  your  sign, 

sir,"  she  said,  "and  I  guessed  you 
S6 


THE  MESSENGER 

brought  news  of  John.  Oh,  sir,  tell 
me  quick,  is  he  safe?" 

"He  is  safe,"  the  stranger  an- 
swered. I  could  not  see  His  face, 
but  He  seemed  weary  and  far- 
travelled.  It  was  His  voice  that 
made  me  wonder.  For  as  He  said 
"safe,"  it  was  as  a  new  word  to  me, 
so  full  of  healing  and  of  peace  that 
it  laid  to  rest  every  fear  of  my  un- 
quiet heart. 

"And  will  he  be  home  soon?"  It 
was  the  mother  who  was  speaking 
now. 

"I  have  taken  the  dear  lad  home," 
answered  the  stranger.  "His  room 
has  been  long  prepared  for  him  in 
my  Father's  house.  He  has  fought 
a  good  fight.  He  was  wounded,  but 
his  woimds  are  healed.  He  was 
27 


,THE  COMRADE  IN  WHITE 

weary,  but  he  has  found  rest."  And 
so  speaking  He  looked  at  us,  and 
as  the  mother  clasped  my  hand  I 
knew  that  the  truth  was  breaking  on 
her  too. 

"He  is  dead,"  she  sobbed. 

"No,"  said  the  stranger,  "he  is 
ahve,  for  he  has  laid  down  his  life 
that  he  might  take  it  again." 

There  was  silence  then,  and  the 
stranger  turned  to  leave  us.  Even 
in  her  grief  the  mourner  was  mindful 
of  what  was  due  to  Him  who  had 
taken  upon  Himself  the  burden  of 
sorrowful  tidings. 

"Come  back  with  us,  and  break 

bread,  and  rest  a  while,"  she  said, 

"for,  sir,  you  seem  spent,  and  it  is 

out  of  a  kind  heart  that  you  have 

spoken." 

^8 


THE  MESSENGER 

"I  may  not  tarry,"  He  made  an- 
swer, **for  there  are  many  who  need 
me,  and  1  must  go  to  them,  but  for 
thy  comfort  thou  shalt  first  know 
who  hath  brought  thee  tidings  of  thy 
son's  passage  through  death  to  life." 

I  dare  not  try  to  tell  what  hap- 
pened then  under  the  shadow  of  the 
pines,  but  somehow  we  knew  our  eyes 
looked  into  the  face  of  the  soldiers' 
The  Comrade  in  White;  and  we 
knew  Him.  And  then  His  hand 
was  lifted  in  blessing,  and  we  heard 
this  word,  that  is  now  as  the  music 
of  our  daily  lives:  "Peace  I  leave 
with  you,  my  peace  I  give  unto  you: 
not  as  the  world  giveth,  give  I  unto 
you.  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled, 
neither  let  it  be  afraid." 


29 


THE  COMRADE  IN  WHITE 

We  walked  in  a  strange,  calm 
silence  to  the  widow's  cottage,  and 
then  as  we  parted  she  turned  to  me 
a  face  filled  with  heavenly  peace — • 
"My  dear  boy  lives,"  she  said. 


Ill 

MAIMED  OR  PERFECTED? 


"  Now  no  chastening  for  the  present  seemeth 
to  be  joyous  but  grievous:  nevertheless,  afterward, 
it  yieldeth  the  peaceable  fruit  of  righteousness 
unto  them  which  are  exercised  thereby." 

— Hebrews  xii  :  11. 

''  "  Six  months  passed  within  the  danger  zone, 
produces  a  subtle  but  marked  change.  Bright 
lads  become  men,  who  bear  all  the  marks  of  having 
passed  through  a  solemn  purification  by  fire. 
And  the  subtle  influence,  as  thus  depicted,  is  com- 
municated to  us.  .  .  .  To  say  that  the  horrors 
of  war  have  subdued  and  overawed  them  is  but 
part  of  the  explanation.  It  seems  nearer  to 
the  truth  to  add,  that  these  heurowing  experiences, 
whatever  they  may  have  been,  have  only  helped 
to  make  our  young  men  susceptible  to  spiritual 
influences  of  the  highest  quality.  In  fine,  they 
have  been  following  in  the  footsteps  of  Him  who 
is  The  Great  Sacrifice,  and  even  amid  the  bursting 
shells  have  caught  a  glimpse  of  wounds  that  trans- 
form and  consecrate  their  own." 

— The  Great  Sacrifice,  John  Adams. 


Ill 

MAIMED  OR  PERFECTED? 

MY  heart  grew  bitter  in  me  when 
the  news  came  of  Harry's 
operation.  I  had  been  half  relieved 
when  I  heard  that  he  was  womided, 
and  that  the  wound  was  not  danger- 
ous. For  the  grim  alternative  was 
seldom  out  of  my  thoughts,  and  at 
least  his  dear  life  was  safe.  Now  I 
was  crushed  by  the  brave,  pathetic 
letter  in  which  he  told  me  that  his 
right  leg  had  been  amputated,  and 
that  he  was  lucky  to  get  off  so  easily. 
That  made  me  rebellious  and  very, 
very  bitter.    And  it  was  against  God 


THE  COMRADE  IN  WHITE 

that  I  felt  worst — God  who  had  al- 
lowed this  unthinkable  thing  to  be. 

Harry  a  cripple!  Harry  of  all 
people!  I  could  not  imagine  it,  nor 
accept  it,  nor  even  face  the  truth  of 
it.  And  away  at  the  bottom  of  my 
heart  lurked  the  thought  that  it  had 
been  better  for  himself  that  he  had 
died  in  the  strength  and  beauty  of 
his  manhood.  Why  should  his  spirit 
be  doomed  to  live  on  in  a  ruined 
home? 

Harry  is  my  only  brother,  and  he 
has  been  my  hero  always.  Manli- 
ness, strength,  courage,  unselfishness 
— I  know  what  these  things  mean; 
they  mean  Harry.  And  of  course  I 
was  proud  when  he  got  his  double 
blue  at  Cambridge.  Cricket  and 
football  were  more  than  pastimes  to 
84 


MAIMED  OR  PERFECTED? 

him.  He  put  his  heart  and  soul  into 
them,  and  when  he  made  106  not  out 
against  Oxford  he  was  as  happy  as  if 
he  had  found  a  new  continent.  And 
now  the  great  athlete,  the  pride  of 
his  College,  the  big  clean-limbed 
giant  was  a  cripple.  I  could  not 
weep  for  it,  because  I  could  not  be- 
lieve it.  I  took  the  thought  and  flung 
it  from  me.  And  then  I  picked  it 
up  again,  and  gazed  at  it  with  hard, 
unseeing  eyes.  It  was  at  that  time 
I  stopped  praying.  What  was 
prayer  but  a  mockery,  if  Harry  was 
maimed? 

Harry  was  at  Cairo,  and  I  could 
not  go  to  him.  And  though  that 
made  me  feel  helpless,  and  almost 
mad  with  inaction,  yet  in  my  heart  I 

dreaded  meeting   him,   seeing  him, 
35 


THE  COMRADE  IN  WHITE 

taking  in  the  bitterness  of  it  through 
the  eyes.  I  was  a  coward,  you  see, 
and  my  love  for  him  a  poor  thing 
at  the  best.  But  there  are  some  who 
will  understand  how  I  felt,  and  will 
forgive  me. 

His  letters  were  all  right,  not  a 
word  of  complaint,  for  Harry  never 
grumbled,  and  many  a  good  story  of 
the  hospital  and  its  patients  and  its 
staff.  But  there  was  something  else, 
a  kind  of  gentle  seriousness  as  if  life 
were  different  now.  And  I  read  my 
own  misery  into  that,  and  pictured 
him  a  man  devoured  by  a  secret 
despair,  while  he  smiled  his  brave  un- 
defeated smile  in  the  face  of  all  the 
world. 

The  weeks  passed,  and  I  braced 

myself  for  the  coming  ordeal.    Then 
36 


MAIMED  OR  PERFECTED? 

everjrthing  came  with  a  rush  at  the 
last,  and  there  I  was  at  the  docks 
giving  my  brave  soldier  his  welcome 
home.  It  was  not  any  easier  than  I 
expected.  I  tried  my  hardest,  as  you 
may  guess,  to  be  all  joy  and  bright- 
ness, but  when  we  were  alone  in  the 
motor  together  my  eyes  were  full  of 
tears,  and  I  broke  down  utterly.  Poor 
Harry,  poor  Harry,  why  are  phys- 
ical calamities  so  awful  and  so  ir- 
revocable ? 

He  let  me  cry,  and  then  he  said 
suddenly,  "Come,  Mary,  look  at  the 
real  *me,'  don't  bother  about  that  old 
leg,  but  look  into  my  face,  and  tell 
me  what  you  see.  There  is  some- 
thing good  for  you  to  see  if  you  will 

look  for  it." 

• 

He  said  it  so  strangely  that  I  was 
37 


345477 


THE  COMRADE  IN  WHITE 

myself  in  a  moment,  and  doing  what 
he  told  me  just  as  in  the  good  old 
days  before  the  war.  And  then  I 
saw  that  Harry  was  a  new  Harry 
altogether,  and  that  he  was  radiantly 
happy.  His  face  was  pale  and  thin, 
but  his  eyes  were  ablaze  with  some- 
thing mysterious  and  wonderful. 
"Don't  ask  me  anything  now,"  he 
said;  "wait  till  we  are  in  my  old  den, 
and  then  I  will  tell  you  everything." 
And  by  this  time  I  was  so  comforted 
that  I  was  content  to  he  back  and 
watch  that  dear,  happy  face  of  his. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  talk  we 
had  afterwards.  "Mary,"  he  said, 
in  his  straight,  direct  way,  "I've  come 
back  a  better  man.  I  have  been  all 
my  life  a  healthy,  happy  pagan.    We 

were  brought  up,  you  and  I,  on  the 
38 


MAIMED  OR  PERFECTED? 

theorjr  of  a  healthy  mind  in  a  healthy 
body,  and,  of  course,  it's  a  good 
theory  so  far  as  it  goes.  But  it  did 
for  me  what  it  does  for  many  a  fel- 
low. It  made  me  forget  my  soul. 
Sport  did  a  lot  for  me,  I  know,  but 
sport  became  my  world.  The  life  I 
lived  there  was  wholesome  enough, 
but  at  the  best  what  a  poor,  con- 
tracted, limited  thing  is  the  body,  and 
its  joy.  And  what  a  big,  splendid 
world  I've  found  the  door  to  now." 

"How  did  it  come  about,  Harry?" 
I  said,  and  the  frost  and  the  bitter- 
ness and  the  anger  against  God  were 
all  gone  out  of  my  heart  and  voice. 

"Well,  I  don't  quite  know.    That's 

the  queer  thing  about  it.     I  don't 

deny  I  was  a  bit  savage  at  first  at 

what  had  happened.     And  I  often 

39 


THE  COMRADE  IN  WHITE 

wished  I  were  dead,  for  I  saw  my  old 
self  wasn't  much  good  for  this  new 
life  I  was  up  against.  Then  one  Sun- 
day the  padre,  who  was  a  very  decent 
sort,  gave  us  a  straight  talk  that 
opened  my  eyes  a  bit.  He  was 
speaking  about  Paul  and  the  differ- 
ence Christ  made  in  his  life.  Paul 
was  a  splendid  fellow,  and  as  good 
as  good  could  be,  and  just  like  many 
a  man  to-day  who  seems  all  right 
without  Christ.  But  what  a  differ- 
ence Christ  made  in  him  for  all  that! 
And  how  He  made  the  old  Saul  of 
Tarsus  seem  a  poor  thing  in  com- 
parison with  Paul  the  apostle !  There 
was  something,  too,  about  Paul's 
thorn  in  the  flesh,  but  I  forget  that 
bit.     Anyhow   I    did   some   furious 

thinking    that     Sunday    in    Cairo, 
4.0 


MAIMED  OR  PERFECTED? 

though  I  saw  nothing  clearly,  and 
didn't  lay  much  store  by  pay  own 
future. 

"That  night  the  strange  thing  hap- 
pened. I  woke  up  in  the  early  hours 
when  no  one  was  astir,  and  I  saw  a 
man  come  in  by  the  door  and  walk 
down  the  ward.  He  gave  a  sort  of 
understanding,  tender  look  at  every 
face  as  he  passed,  and  when  he  saw 
that  I  was  awake  he  came  close  beside 
me  and  held  my  hand  for  a  moment. 
Then  he  said,  'Will  you  let  me  help 
you  with  this  burden  of  yours?'  I 
thought  at  first  it  was  the  new  doctor 
we  were  expecting.  Then  I  knew 
quite  suddenly  that  it  was  The  Com- 
rade in  White,  and  that  He  wanted 
me  very  much  to  say  'Yes.'    And  as 

I  said  it  I  felt  the  first  real  happi- 
41 


THE  COMRADE  IN  WHITE 

ness  that  I  had  known  since  I  was 
wounded.  And  then  He  smiled  and 
went  away. 

"I  told  myself  next  day  that  it 
was  a  dream,  and  perhaps  it  was, 
but  that  strange,  odd  happiness  has 
never  left  me  since.  I  wouldn't  be 
back  again  in  the  old  way,  not  for 
all  the  world  could  give  me,  not  even 
to  have  my  leg  restored." 

"And  is  He  really  helping  you 
with   your   burden?"      I   whispered. 

"Why,  Mary  child,  can't  you  see," 
he  exclaimed,  with  his  merry  laugh; 
"can't  you  see  that  He  has  carried 
my  burden  quite  away?  I  was  but 
half  a  man  before.  He  has  made  me 
whole." 


42 


IV 

THE  PRAYER  CIRCLE 


"...  More  things'are  wrought  by  prayer 

Than  this  world  dreams  of.    Wherefore,  let  thy 

voice 
Rise  like  a  fountain  for  me  night  and  day. 
For  what  are  men  better  than  sheep  or  goats 
That  nourish  a  blind  life  within  the  brain, 
If,  knowing  God,  they  lift  not  hands  of  prayer 
Both   for   themselves   and   those   who   caU   them 

friend? 
For  so  the  whole  round  earth  is  every  way 
Bound  by  gold  chains  about  the  feet  of  God." 
— The  Passing  of  Arthur,  Axfred,  Lord  TENPfYsoN. 

"  Fight  the  good  fight  with  all  thy  might, 
Christ  is  thy  strength,  and  Christ  thy  right, 
Lay  hold  on  life,  and  it  shall  be 
Thy  joy  and  crown  eternally. 

"  Faint  not,  nor  fear.  His  arms  are  near, 
He  changeth  not,  and  thou  art  dear: 
Only  believe,  and  thou  shalt  see 
That  Christ  is  all  in  all  to  thee." 

— ^J.   S.   B.   MONSELL. 


IV 

THE  PRAYER  CIRCLE 

LIEUTENANT  ROGER 
FENTON  had  a  lump  in  his 
throat  when  he  said  good-bye  to  his 
boys.  There  they  were  in  a  bunch 
on  the  station  platform,  the  ten  way- 
ward lads  into  whom  he  had  sought 
to  instil  the  fear  of  God  on  Tuesday 
evenings  in  winter,  and  with  whom 
he  had  rambled  and  played  cricket 
every  Saturday  afternoon  in  sum- 
mer. Boys  of  fourteen  to  seventeen 
are  a  tough  proposition,  and  though 
Fenton  would  answer  for  their  bowl- 
ing and  batting  he  wasn't  over  san- 
45 


THE  COMRADE  IN  WHITE 

guine  about  their  religion.  But  they 
had  filled  a  big  place  in  his  lonely 
life  in  the  dull  little  country  town, 
and  now  he  had  to  leave  them  and 
lose  them.  For  the  great  call  had 
reached  him,  and  be  bore  the  King's 
commission,  and  in  his  heart  of 
hearts  he  had  the  feeling  that  he 
would  never  come  back. 

Now  the  chaff  and  the  parting 
words  of  good  luck  were  over,  and 
the  train  was  panting  to  be  off. 
"Boys,"  he  cried  suddenly,  "I  want 
you  to  do  something  for  me,  some- 
thing hard."  "Anything  you  like, 
sir,"  they  answered  eagerly.  But 
their  faces  fell  when  they  heard  their 
teacher's  word.  "Look  here,"  he 
said,  "it's  this.     You'll  meet  in  the 

old  place  every  Tuesday  evening  for 
46 


THE  PRAYER  CIRCLE 

a  few  minutes  and  pray  for  me  that 
I  may  do  my  duty,  and,  if  it  please 
God,  that  I  may  come  back  to  you 
all.  And  I'll  pray  for  you  at  the 
same  time  even  if  I'm  in  the  thick 
of  battle.     Is  it  a  bargain^" 

I  wish  you  had  seen  the  dismay  on 
those  ten  faces.  It  was  any  odds  on 
their  blurting  out  a  shamefaced  re- 
fusal, but  Ted  Harper,  their  ac- 
knowledged chief,  pulled  himself 
together  just  in  time,  and  called  out 
as  the  train  began  to  move: — "We'll 
do  it,  sir.  I  don't  know  how  we'll 
manage  it,  but  we'll  do  our  best. 
We'll  not  go  back  on  you." 

As  Fenton  sank  into  his  corner  he 
was  aware  of  the  mocking  looks  of 
his  brother  officers.     "I  say,"   said 

one  of  them,  "you  don't  really  think 

47 


THE  COMRADE  IN  WHITE 

those  chaps  are  going  to  hold  a 
prayer-meeting  for  you  every  week, 
and  if  they  did  you  can't  believe  it 
would  stop  an  enemy's  bullet  or  turn 
an  enemy's  shell.  It's  all  very  well 
to  be  pious,  but  that's  a  bit  too 
thick."  Fenton  flushed,  but  he  took 
it  in  good  part.  "Prayer's  a  big  bit 
of  our  religion,"  he  said,  "and  I've  a 
notion  these  prayers  will  help  me. 
Anyhow  I'm  sure  my  lads  will  do 
their  part.  Where  Ted  Harper 
leads,  they  follow." 

And  sure  enough  the  boys  did  their 
part.  It  was  fine  to  see  them  start- 
ing out  in  the  wrong  direction,  and 
twisting  and  doubling  through  the 
crooked  lanes  till  they  worked  round 
to  the  Mission  Hall,  and  then  in  with 

a  rush  and  a  scuttle,  that  as  few  as 
48 


THE  PRAYER  CIRCLE 

possible  might  see.  The  doings  of 
the  Fenton  crowd,  as  they  were 
known  locally,  were  the  talk  of  the 
town  in  those  first  days  after 
Roger  departed.  Would  they  meet? 
Would  they  keep  it  up?  Would 
they  bear  the  ridicule  of  the  other 
boys  of  their  own  age?  And  how  in 
the  world  would  they  pray? 

Time  answered  all  these  questions 
except  the  last.  They  met,  they  con- 
tinued to  meet,  they  faced  ridicule 
like  heroes.  But  how  did  they  pray? 
That  mystery  was  as  deep  and  in- 
soluble as  before,  for  whatever  aw- 
ful oath  of  secrecy  bound  them  to 
silence  not  a  whisper  of  the  doings 
of  those  Tuesday  evenings  was  di- 
vulged to  the  outside  world. 

I  was  the  only  one  who  ever  knew, 
49 


THE  COMRADE  IN  WHITE 

and  I  found  out  by  chance.  Ted 
Harper  had  borrowed  "Fights  for 
the  Flag"  from  me,  and  when  I  got 
it  back  there  was  a  soiled  piece  of 
paper  in  it  with  something  written 
in  Ted's  ungainly  hand.  I  thought 
he  had  been  copying  a  passage,  and 
anxious  to  see  what  had  struck  him, 
I  opened  the  sheet  out  and  read 
these  words: — "O  God,  it's  a  hard 
business  praying.  But  Roger  made 
me  promise.  And  you  know  how  de- 
cent he's  been  to  me  and  the  crowd. 
Listen  to  us  now,  and  excuse  the 
wrong  words,  and  bring  him  back 
safe.  And,  O  God,  make  him  the 
bravest  soldier  that  ever  was,  and 
give  him  the  V.  C.  That's  what  we  all 
want  for  him.  And  don't  let  the  war 

be  long,  for  Christ's  sake.    Amen." 
50 


THE  PRAYER  CIRCLE 

I  felt  a  good  deal  ashamed  of  my- 
self when  I  came  to  the  end  of  this 
artless  prayer.  I  had  got  their 
secret.  I  could  see  them  kneeling 
round  the  Mission  forms,  two  or 
three  with  crumpled  papers  in  their 
hands.  They  were  unutterably  shy 
of  religious  expression,  and  to  read 
was  their  only  chance.  The  boys  on 
whom  the  fatal  lot  fell  the  previous 
Tuesday  were  bound  to  appear  with 
their  written  devotions  a  week  later. 
This  war  has  given  us  back  the  super- 
natural, but  no  miracle  seems  more 
wonderful  to  me  than  those  ten  lads 
and  their  ill-written  prayers.  And, 
remember,  that  liturgical  service 
lasted  six  months,  and  never  a  break 
in  the  Tuesday  meeting.     What  a 

grand  thing  a  boy's  heart  is,  when 
51 


THE  COMRADE  IN  WHITE 

you  capture  its  loyalty  and  its  af- 
fection ! 

It  was  a  black  day  when  the  news 
came.  The  local  Territorials  had  ad- 
vanced too  far  on  the  wing  of  a  great 
offensive,  and  had  been  almost  an- 
nihilated. The  few  survivors  had 
dug  themselves  in,  and  held  on  till 
that  "bitter  Tuesday  faded  into  dark- 
ness and  night.  When  relief  came, 
one  man  was  left  alive.  He  was 
wounded  in  four  places,  but  he  was 
still  loading  and  firing,  and  he  wept 
when  they  picked  him  up  and  carried 
him  away  for  first  aid.  That  solitary 
hero,  absolutely  the  only  survivor  of 
our  local  regiment,  was  Lieutenant 
Roger  Fenton,  V.  C. 

When   his    wounds    were    healed, 

and  the  King  had  done  the  needful 
52 


THE  PRAYER  CIRCLE 

bit  of  decoration,  we  got  him  home. 
We  did  not  make  the  fuss  they  did 
in  some  places.  Our  disaster  was 
too  awful,  and  the  pathos  of  that 
solitary  survivor  too  piercing.  But 
some  of  us  were  at  the  station,  and 
there  in  the  front  row  were  the  ten 
men  of  prayer.  Poor  Roger  quite 
broke  down  when  he  saw  them.  And 
he  could  find  no  words  to  thank  them. 
But  he  wrung  their  hands  till  they 
winced  with  the  pain  of  that  iron 
grip. 

That  night  I  got  a  chance  of  a 
talk  with  him  alone.  He  was  too 
modest  to  tell  me  anjrthing  of  his 
own  great  exploit.  But  there  was 
evidently  something  he  wanted  to  say, 
and  it  was  as  if  he  did  not  know  how 

to  begiuc    At  last  he  said,  "I  have  a 
53 


THE  COMRADE  IN  WHITE 

story  to  tell  that  not  one  in  fifty  would 
listen  to.  That  Tuesday  evening 
when  I  was  left  alone,  and  had  given 
up  all  hope,  I  remembered  it  was  the 
hour  of  the  old  meeting,  and  I  kept 
my  promise  and  prayed  for  the  boys 
of  my  Class.  Then  everything  around 
me  faded  from  my  mind,  and  I  saw 
the  dear  lads  in  the  Mission  Room  at 
prayer.  I  don't  mean  that  I  went 
back  in  memory.  I  knew  with  an  ab- 
solute certainty  that  I  was  there  invis- 
ible in  that  night's  meeting.  Whether 
in  the  body  or  out  of  the  body,  I  can- 
not say,  but  there  I  was,  watching 
and  listening." 

"How  wonderful !"  I  said. 

"That's  not  all,  there's  something 

stranger  still,"  he  went  on.     "They 

were  kneeling  on  the  floor,  and  Ted 
54 


THE  PRAYER  CIRCLE 

Harper  was  reading  a  prayer,  and 
when  it  was  done  they  said  'Amen' 
as  with  one  voice.  I  counted  to  see 
if  they  were  all  there.  I  got  to  ten 
right  enough,  but  I  did  not  stop 
there.  I  counted  again,  and  this  is  the 
odd  thing — there  were  eleven  of 
them!  In  my  dream  or  vision  or 
trance,  call  it  what  you  will,  I  was 
vaguely  troubled  by  this  imexpected 
number.  I  saw  the  ten  troop  out  in 
their  old  familiar  way,  and  I  turned 
back  to  find  the  eleventh,  The  Com^ 
rode  in  White,  and  to  speak  to  Him. 
I  felt  His  presence  still,  and  was  glad 
of  it,  for  the  trouble  and  perplexity 
were  all  gone  and  in  their  place  a 
great  expectation.  I  seemed  to  know 
the  very  place  where  He  had  been 
kneeling,  and  I  hurried  forward. 
55 


THE  COMRADE  IN  WHITE 

But  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen, 
nothing  but  the  well-remembered 
text  staring  down  at  me  from  the 
wall — 'For  where  two  or  three  are 
gathered  together  in  my  name,  there 
am  I  in  the  midst  of  them/  I  re- 
membered no  more,  till  I  found  my- 
self in  the  base  hospital.  But  of 
course  I  knew  then  how  I  had  been 
saved,  and  what  my  boys  had  done 
for  me. 

"It  makes  a  man  feel  strange  to 
have  his  life  given  back  to  him  like 
that;  it's  as  if  God  would  expect  a 
great  deal  in  return.  But  there's  a 
stronger  feeling  still  in  my  heart.  I 
believe  the  lads  got  their  answer  not 
for  my  sake  but  for  their  own. 
Think  what  it  means  to  them. 
They've  got  their  feet  now  on  the 
56 


THE  PRAYER  CIRCLE 

rock  of  prayer.  They  know  the 
truth  of  God.  I'm  not  sure,  but  I 
don't  think  I'll  ever  tell  them  that  I 
saw  Christ  in  their  midst.  They 
know  it  in  their  own  way,  and  per- 
haps their  own  way  is  best." 

And  as  he  said  it,  I  saw  that  Lieu- 
tenant Roger  Fenton  was  prouder 
of  his  boys  than  of  his  Victoria  Cross. 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  Americof 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  AT  LOS  ANGELES 

THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


itfL 


DEC1''\^" 


20ni-12,'30(3:l»a) 


nilf  1R81TT  OF  cALivtnoai 

AT  I 

LOS  ANGEXJBS  I 


6023  Leathern  - 
L4:8o  The  Comrade  in 


white. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A  000  864  330  6 


PR 
6023 
L48c 


